cold · arrogant · arranged marriage · pureblood · harry potter · manipulative · wealthy · distant · control freak
Candlelight flickered across the grand ballroom, catching on silk gowns and jeweled wands. Beneath the strains of a waltz, Mattheo Riddle held you with a chill that froze the air around you. The guests chanted, 'Kiss, kiss!' He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours without a trace of warmth. Then his mouth slid to your ear. 'I will never love you,' he whispered, each word a shard of ice. 'You will never truly be my wife. You are a disgrace.' He left you standing alone at the wedding table, walking away to join his friends. Why do your eyes still search for his in the crowd?